


Garlic Doesn't Kill Vampires

by TrappedInSonder



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Cuddling, Geralt Loves Jaskier, Geraskier, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier gets told off, Jaskier is a Brat, Jaskier is a child, Jaskier is cute, M/M, MxM - Freeform, Nicknames, Songbird - Freeform, dumbass energy, hinted relationship, mentioned argument, why are these so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23199736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrappedInSonder/pseuds/TrappedInSonder
Summary: “Where have you been, Jaskier?!”Oh, there it was. That gruff and slightly irritated tone sounding from behind him; the door cracked against the stone wall from how hard it had been flung open.Jaskier set his lute case on the floor with a shrug, staring at it absentmindedly, taking his sweet time to reply. He could practically feel the other’s anger radiating off of him in waves“Out.”“Out? Out?!”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 187
Collections: Geralt And Jaskier Being Cuties





	Garlic Doesn't Kill Vampires

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Hi! Another Geraskier fic look at this! This one is just a small drabble I have been playing around with for a while! Hope you all like it! Thank you for all the support! If you'd like to be so generous to support me further I have a Ko-fi where I will soon be opening up commissions on! Ty all! https://ko-fi.com/loveonsonder

“Where have you been, Jaskier?!”

Oh, there it was. That gruff and slightly irritated tone sounding from behind him; the door cracked against the stone wall from how hard it had been flung open.  
Jaskier set his lute case on the floor with a shrug, staring at it absentmindedly, taking his sweet time to reply. He could practically feel the other’s anger radiating off of him in waves

“Out.”

“Out? Out?!”

The repetition made a grin twinge on Bard’s plus tiers for a moment as he moved to unlace his doublet a little, so he could breathe a little easier without the tight clothing. He didn’t offer an explanation, though he was sure that wouldn’t make things any better. 

“Out where, Jaskier?! What was so important that you couldn’t wait until dawn?”

Geralt was shifting on his feet, leather-clad fists tightening in anger. It was around midnight, and the Witcher had decided he would go and check on Jaskier. He always did when he couldn’t sleep, whether it was a sideways glance to the snoozing bard in the bedroll nearby when they camped or quietly peeking through the other’s door when they paid to spend a night in an inn. It was for his own peace of mind, he reasoned. Simply knowing that his travel companions were safe since they were his responsibility. That’s what he told himself. He would do it for anyone, not just Jaskier. 

Though, when he had risen and peeked through the door only to find the bed rather empty and completely untouched, panic had struck through him. He waited a good two hours for the other to return before he had gotten dressed back into his armour, donned his weapons and made it find the other. That was when Jaskier had returned, and he’d watched the blue-adorned bard dip back into his room. Instinct had taken him from there. 

“It isn’t important. I was just picking up some things for the journey.”

Geralt growled. Audibly growled in an animalistic way that didn’t help Jaskier’s case of proving that Witchers were anything more than just that. It sounded through the air and sent a shiver through Jaskier’s spine. Perhaps he was taking this too far, but the other had upset him earlier and there was no reason why he had to be compliant as always. If anything, thinking about it only made him more defiant. 

“Picking up W h a t?”

Perhaps it was stupid of him, to leave, at night, to wander around a city that was currently being plagued by vampires. That was the sole purpose they were even in this city, but his excitement had gotten the better of him. He did try and lay down, atop the covers, but found that his mind was running too fast and had no signs of settling. Ideas on what the vampires would look like, how they would act, and if they were even as bad as everyone said they were. Jaskier had never been one to believe stereotypes. So his mind spurred him on until he was up, redressed and out in search of a vampire with a pocket full of garlic. Okay, maybe he did listen to SOME stereotypes. 

“Just bits and bobs, you know. Apples for Roach. I don’t even see why you ca-”  
He raised a bag, which was certainly not filled with apples, though it could be perceived that way, and waved it to show it off, still not turning to look at the other. 

The other had moved silently behind him and was a lot closer than Jaskier had thought, and when a hand clamped around his thin wrist and a large inhale was drawn in as the bard was spun around to face the Witcher, he fell silent mid-sentence as fear spiked in his chest.  
Geralt was angry, really angry. He’d rarely seen the golden hues burn with so much rage.  
“There’s Garlic in there, I can smell it from here.”  
The words were spoken through bared teeth, Geralt’s grip tightening suddenly, though he was still careful not to cause any long-lasting injuries to the other. Always careful.

Jaskier released the bag in shock, watching as the amber orbs flicked down to watch the white plants roll out from beneath the brown fabric, turning back to Jaskier once more with a look that screamed ‘Explain’. Though Jaskier knew the other didn’t need an explanation, his mind was now spinning lies to try and get out of this situation. He hadn’t expected to make the other this mad. 

“Well, I-...Uh-...Well you see, I thought we could-...Do some cooking! Yeah, cooking, while we’re on the road. Garlic is great for-...For stews and broths and-”

The male squeaked as his wrist was yanked forward, dangerously close to the other. He took a sharp breath, the other’s musky scent filling his nostrils. Geralt had bathed, That was when he had chosen to sneak out. His hair was still a little wet, curly with the damp. It fell over his shoulders in waves, the sides released from their usual braids. Though Jaskier could swear he saw a twinge of an amused smile on the Witcher’s lips at the other’s poor excuse for lying. It would never fail to amaze him how the writer could spin tales and songs beyond Geralt’s wildest imagination, but couldn’t lie to save his skin. 

“You’re lying to me.”

“I’m no-”  
Jaskier tried, but his protest was quickly cut off.

“I can tell. I can smell your fear. I can see it. You’re lying to me, Jaskier. Most of all, I know what you were really doing.”  
Geralt leaned in closer, teeth bared, mainly for the objective of scaring the other over anything else. Sure, he was mad. Mad the other had gone out and possibly enraged that the other had tried to lie to him so blatantly. But not as mad as he was letting on. No, this was a scare tactic. Something to make the bratty bard think twice about doing something Geralt had told him not to. 

“You went out to find a vampire, didn’t you? You don’t need to answer, I know you did.”

Jaskier took a sharp breath and shook his head, turning his face away and raising his other hand to push against his chest, the close proximity suffocating.  
“No, I-”

“Lying to me is dangerous, Jullian. You know this and yet, you keep going.”  
He tightened the grip again, to make Jaskier stop struggling, to which he yelped and clamped his other hand around his wrist. 

“Geralt, you’re hurting me!”

At this, Geralt did loosen the grip and, after a long moment, brought the other’s wrist closer, eyes gently studying over the light red marks he’d left upon pale skin. Then, in a move that was extremely unexpected, he brought the flesh to his lips to plant a gentle kiss against it.  
“I’m sorry, Songbird.”

He rubbed calloused fingers over the red marks comfortingly, gently guiding the other to sit back on the bed. All the while, Jaskier was silent, in too much shock to talk for once. 

“I worry about you, and I tell you these things to keep you safe, not to be the bad guy.”  
He huffed out, citrine gaze now softened against the bard’s baby blues. 

“Garlic doesn’t work on vampires, Jaskier. If it did, we wouldn’t need to be here. But it doesn’t, and you went out unarmed and unprotected. You could have died.”  
There was a twinge of sadness to his words that Jaskier managed to catch, the bard watching the other before dropping his gaze to the floor. Somehow, seeing the other disappointed in him was worse than seeing him angry, and the dull ache it left in his chest was worse than the one in his wrist.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I should’ve known you wouldn’t have been able to deny your excitement.”  
Geralt gently released the other, finally, and Jaskier found himself somehow missing the touches. 

“Just try and get some sleep. I’ll go and kill them tomorrow and you can stay here.”  
Jaskier frowned deeply and shook his head, moving to stand before a look from Geralt put him in his place. 

“Why do I have to stay? I want to see them!”

“Because if I take you with me and you get hurt, you could die very easily. Vampires aren’t mindless monsters, Jaskier. They’re a lot more dangerous than you realise.”  
Geralt began to strip off his armour, setting it aside as he did, revealing the clean undershirt beneath. 

Jaskier laid back and curled on his side, sighing heavily, though he was more saddened than annoyed. After a long moment of shared silence between the two, Jaskier broke it.  
“I am sorry, Geralt. I was angry and I-...Just wanted to upset you. I didn’t even go far, not where they’re said to be. Just around the town.”

“I know.”

“Are you still mad with me?”  
There was some childlike innocence to his words that struck something within Geralt. It was no secret that Jaskier was childish, but sometimes Geralt found himself feeling too empathetic for the other because of it.  
He stood from his chair across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, a hand gently tangling with chestnut hair, brushing meaningless patterns and lines upon them.  
“No, I just want you to sleep.”

“...you need to sleep too.”

“Jaskier.”  
A warning, now. The other would talk all night if Geralt allowed him to do so. Sometimes it was a growl or a hum to cut the other’s conversations short so the other would focus on whatever it was he was supposed to be doing. 

“Lie down and I’ll sleep.”  
Jaskier mumbled a little defiantly, raising an eyebrow up at the other, though those vibrant baby blues were glazed over with sleep. 

Geralt found himself slipping in beside the other with a huff, strong arms encircling the other’s waist to pull him close and secure his position in the bed.  
“Happy?”

“Very.”  
Jaskier confirmed with a nod. 

“Then go to sleep.”

And only when Jaskier’s eyes fluttered closed and his breathing levelled out did Geralt rest their foreheads together and focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat for the rest of the night.


End file.
